INTERVIEW : TONY SCREW
Interview by : Benoît Georges
Pictures by : Bartek Muracki
on Friday, March 28th 2014 - 11 955 views
With him, behind every song, every riddim, there is a story. An unconditional fan of Studio One, and of its owner whom he still calls "Mister Dodd", Tony Screw (nicknamed so because of his deformed face), head of the Downbeat sound system, has been striving since 1972 to preserve the spirit of the label.
This great collector of records and exclusive dubplates is also very talkative: although we were supposed to interview him for 15 minutes, we spend more than an hour and a half in his company. And even that is not enough to cover the whole journey of Downbeat, one of the pioneering sound systems of the New York scene. A meeting with a "larger than life" character, generous with anecdotes.
Reggaefrance / You're an institution in New York, a figure of the Bronx, but you were born in Jamaica.
Tony Screw / Yes, I was born in Kingston, in St Andrew to be exact, 6 miles from Kingston, in Papine. You know Brigadier Jerry? I grew up in the same street as him.
And at that time, was your nickname already Tony Screw?
Yes, Tony Screw, but they also called me the Goldfinger. It's the same person! Goldfinger because I could find tunes that were worth gold! I know the tunes, I have more than fifteen thousand 45s! If you ever come through New York, come and see me, I'll show you. I'm going to tell you a story. I met Bob Marley in 1969, and he always supported me. He used to tell me: “Youth, when you have your sound, you'll be the wickedest thing on earth ('the wickedest bloodclaat ting pan earth').” Everybody knew Bob at the time, nobody would have disrespected him. One day, I go to see Bob in his little record shop, I go there for the Wailing Souls who had recorded Row fisherman row, and I had 5 pounds. I bought I'm hurting inside from Bob; I'm told it's really hard to find that tune today! Well, I took two and I've still got them! Because I know a good tune when I hear one. You don't see them much any more, those tunes on the Wail'N Soul'M label, unless they're originals: Buss dem shut, Stepping razor by Peter Tosh, the tunes by the Soulettes, the group of Rita Marley and Cecile Campbell… If Bob were still here, I'd have the best dubplates of him, no doubt about it! And they'd be songs I know that are really rare and original.
So you started the sound in Jamaica?
Yes, I played on a sound, but not under the name Downbeat. The first sound I played on was called T Tone. The name Downbeat was created in the United States.
 Les gens disent parfois : « Downbeat ne joue que des vieilles chansons. » Mais pour moi, il n’y a aucune chanson trop vieille ! 
What year are we talking about?
1972. In fact, we made T-shirts that say 1973, but that's a mistake. It doesn't matter, because the sound did indeed become important and popular in the United States from 1973, but it started playing officially in 1972.
When did you leave for New York?
In November 1970. The first time I met Mr “Coxsone” Dodd in person was in 1972 in the Bronx. That's when I decided to confirm with him the use of the name Downbeat. In my head it was always Downbeat, but I didn't want to make the name official before meeting Mr Dodd, even though we were abroad (Downbeat was the name of “Coxsone”'s sound in Jamaica, editor's note).
You absolutely wanted him to give you his permission to use that name?
Yes, and he endorsed the name. So we were officially backed. I really admire the work of “Coxsone” Dodd and, to this day, I can't see any other producer in the history of Jamaica of whom I'd say he is better than Studio One. None. It's just my opinion, but for me, they all copied Studio One's riddims. And if they did that, it's because the riddims are so good… Treasure Isle had some great riddims, but nobody copied Treasure Isle's riddims as much as Studio One's. And Studio One had the “one drop” sound, as Bob Marley said, he said “feel it in the one drop”. So if you dilute the riddim, you dilute the music, you take away the energy that's in it. Some people like roots reggae; me, I think rocksteady is the best thing that came out of Jamaica, maybe because I was born during the rocksteady period. You know the story as well as I do: rocksteady lasted only 18 months, but the number of tunes recorded in those 18 months is just incredible. Mr Dodd told me he had to erase some tapes because he didn't have the money to buy new ones. So he had to make the right decision… Even today, I have a lot of Studio One riddims for which I don't even know the name of the original vocal track, of the song. If I worked at Studio One, you know what I'd do? I'd put all the young artists on those riddims. Because it would be interesting to know what the young people of today, who follow the dances, will listen to in 15 or 20 years: will they still go towards the sounds of the 70s, towards the sounds of the 80s, or will they turn to the sounds of the 90s and 2000s? I'd like to still be here to see it. After that, nobody is the same, some people play tunes from the 80s, others tunes from the 90s, but if you ask me, I'd tell you that after 1995 nothing has really changed in any significant way and that few “big tunes” have been made since. I find that the music is more limited, artists earn more money today, they can say anything and still sell millions, not necessarily because the tune is good, it's just that it's pushed by a whole system, by the media… The artists of the 80s? For me, it was simply magnificent. But well, that's our life, we have to support all the artists, show them respect. What I like is seeing a young audience enjoy the songs I play, discovering tunes with Downbeat. I like it when young people come up to me after a dance and ask: “What was that tune you played, what was that riddim?” That's my vision of the business.
Do you own the sound?
Yes, and I'm also selector and MC. I've been the selector on the sound for about 14 years. I've done a bit of everything, like U-Roy, playing my own records, my own versions and doing my own things.
Where did your sound system come from, bought in the United States or built in Jamaica?
No, it was bought in the United States. A wicked set, with big McIntosh speakers. But we weren't pioneers: there were already some very big sound systems playing legally “uptown” (they didn't play Jamaican music, though, editor's note).
Which other Jamaican sounds were around there?
When I arrived in New York, a few sounds were there before me. And a few others arrived after me. But when Downbeat arrived, I set the bar high. You have to understand it wasn't so easy at that time to get your sound playing or to be in the sound business in the United States. But it was relatively easy for me: everybody liked me. I was naturally an even-tempered person who respected everybody.
Who were the pioneers of that time?
In the Bronx, you had El Rockers, which became African Love (then Afrique, editor's note)…
Claudie Evans' first sound…
Yes… “Oh, you know the ting man”! Super Claude! Shortly afterwards came Papa Moke, who lived in Jersey. There was also Son's Junior from Brooklyn, which is an extension of the Son the Junior Sebastian sound from Jamaica; they're all from the same family. There are a few other sounds that were created in the years that followed, like Mini Mart in Brooklyn. I'm talking about sounds that were well established, whose name you saw all over the place and which really helped to develop this business. There was also Terrorist and King Custom. It was only afterwards that the generation of sounds like Addies arrived.
You can't mention Papa Moke and African Love without talking about your clash in 1984.
It was one of the biggest soundclashes in the whole history of New York, and I'd even say of the United States. That clash was to decide who was king, not only in New York, but across the whole of the United States. It was held at the HQ club in the Bronx; I can even give you the date: 26 May 1984. All three sounds were very popular, but Papa Moke and Downbeat were a notch above: Papa Moke was regarded as the king of New Jersey and Downbeat as the king of New York. A woman organised that clash. You know Mr Palmer of Jet Star in England? She's one of his daughters. I still wonder where she got that idea from! Anyway, it was magnificent. In those days, when you clashed, it was with artists on stage, not like today where sounds only clash with dubplates. Each of the three sounds had its own artists with it on stage. It was wicked!
Who were the artists that night?
Among the best in the world! I had Brigadier Jerry, Sister Nancy, Shinehead and Santa Ranking. Papa Moke had Lone Ranger, Sassafras, Shelly Thunder and Ranking Joe. African Star had Supercat, Louie Lepkie and Nicodemus, among others.
And you won…
Yes, I came out the winner. It was one of my best experiences, even though I had clashed before. It was one of the biggest clashes of my life, not only because I was crowned, but because of its impact and the reactions of the crowd in the dance. It's in those moments that you realise that good tunes and good lyrics create big “forwards” and that big “forwards” can put the pressure on.
And good speeches too.
Yes, I was forgetting good speeches. That's what it taught me. I'd say it was one of the biggest clashes in the whole history of the sound business. Until now, no sound has been crowned at that level. I sometimes joke to myself that they can't crown other sounds because there's only one crown. But I think I deserved it; the crowd was really behind me because I was preaching the same thing as today: presenting good music to the public, making young people aware of the roots of the music. That has always been my aim. I want to pass the baton to younger ones, offer them the gift I received. Because today a lot of young people play on a sound and have no special gift for it; they like it but they don't know where the foundations come from. My job is really to show them where those foundations of the music come from. That's why, I think, I won that clash.
What were your favourite clubs?
As I said, the clash took place at the HQ club, but unfortunately that club didn't last very long. Without any doubt, I'd say my favourite club was the Stardust Ballroom in the Bronx. Why? Because it was a real ballroom, highly prized by the public and by American bands at the time. At one point, my sound system stayed in the Stardust Ballroom for six months, it didn't move, as if I owned the place! Simply because the sound was booked from one week to the next at the Stardust. Most of the dates I was hired for at that time were at the Stardust. The place was pretty, with a good capacity, 2,000 to 2,500 people and sometimes a bit more, with a lovely carpet on the floor, a balcony upstairs. A really very pretty ballroom.
You say you were hired, that the sound was booked from one week to the next. So you hired out your services for any party?
Exactly, anyone could hire my services. That's why Downbeat became one of the first sounds to travel outside New York to represent the city. There were many sounds that were based in one area and only played in that area. Downbeat was the first international sound, going to play in Jamaica, England, Germany… I really worked hard to go in that direction. To be honest, and without wanting to pat myself on the back, I truly believe, deep down, that Downbeat is a great sound, for one simple reason: all these years, I've stayed firm, uncompromising. I started by telling myself: “This is what I want to do” and that's what I did; I wouldn't change for anything in the world. If you don't like it, you can go and see another sound. I think my way is the right one. I do my own things differently and I'm happy to have ideas, to know what I want. And it's true that nobody can tell me what to play.
What is the first dub you ever recorded?
It depends whether we're talking about “dubplate specials” or “dubplate riddims”. To be honest, I recorded tunes on dubplates, but my first dubs, although I remember the names of the artists, there's not much to say about them. They were young artists whose talent I had spotted and whom I wanted to record on dubplates. Those are dubs I certainly couldn't play today. But my first real dubplate was Brigadier Jerry, whom we recorded at Studio One in Jamaica in 1979.
What are Downbeat's anthems?
Oh my God! I have so many! And they've been copied so much! Today, that's what happens in the sound system business: if an artist is still alive, you'll find sounds that will record exactly the same version as me, and when you play against them in a clash, they'll play their version before yours. Now, one of the rules of a clash is that once a tune has been played, you can't play it again. So they tell themselves: “I'm going to eliminate that one.”
It's called “burning dubs” (“burning tunes”)…
That's it, that's the word! In fact, it's really hard for a sound to burn Downbeat's dubs. You can't do it. Because some of my riddims are very, very rare. Some of my Studio One riddims are different, completely different in the mix. Some of those riddims were mixed specially for me, and I got them mixed the way I wanted. After that, I don't care whether another sound copies me. If you tell me: “I like that dub Downbeat played” and you can get it, take it! As long as the artist is still around, it's good for him.
That's why you talk about “dubplate riddims”.
Yes, exactly. So, if you were with me in the same studio with Mr Dodd and he gave you a riddim, 90% of the time he wouldn't give me a riddim like yours. If it's the same riddim, it would be a different mix. That's what I call a dubplate, a riddim dubplate. Take for example The Silvertones, Smile; I can state that I'm the only sound in the world that has that version on dubplate. It's historic! And if you listen to my version and another sound's, you can guess which one is mine: it comes from the riddim, and also from the fact that at the time The Silvertones were three singers, and the group's original leader died in a car accident the very year the tune was recorded. It's a very different vibration. That's why the tune became an anthem for Downbeat and, on top of that, the song entered the Billboard charts, I mean the dubplate! I got The Silvertones into the Billboard charts!
Do you have a favourite studio to record in?
I record in lots of different studios. No special studio. As long as I feel I'm going to get the quality I think I deserve. Years ago, we made a lot of mistakes recording dubs; we recorded dubs without doing any “panning” on the voice, we locked everything in, and once it's locked, you can't do anything any more. With time we learned to separate the voice on Jamaican dubs. I learned that 12 or 15 years ago and I realised I had a good ear for it, so I can mix my tunes at home the way I want. I have a young selector with me and when I make a CD of dubplates, he tells me it sounds really good. Most of the time, I work analogue, from a DAT to a mixing desk. I rarely use the computer; I only use the computer to solve certain problems. I use the “old school” method and I think I get a better sound. My sound is good, you can compare it with others. Of course, with Downbeat, people will hear a lot of Studio One because that's my style, but if I play you Luciano, that will also be very different from another sound. And then, I record songs that everybody can listen to, that can be played on the radio. You have sounds that play Buju Banton; Downbeat plays Buju Banton, not a lot but differently: I don't record songs that have “battyman” lyrics or other rubbish in the words. I don't do that. That's how I work. When Shabba Ranks deejays for Downbeat, I don't have him say rubbish; you listen to my Shabba tunes, they're different.
The Downbeat sound is truly a “foundation” sound. It is one of the first, if not the first, that allowed all the veteran artists in the business to improve their lot, even those I didn't record on dubplate. I did a lot to bring those “foundation” artists back to light with dubplates. I was the first to do dubs with Alton Ellis, at Studio One. Or with Bobby Dobson. Bob Andy? I recorded him with Marcia Griffiths at Willie Lindo's studio in Miami. I came from New York just for that!
Were you the first to record that dub?
Yes, the first! You can ask Marcia when you see her again! But you know, I did something stupid: when I brought Bob Andy into the studio, I brought the original track.
Are you talking about Really together?
Yes, but a guy had redone a version of the riddim, creating loops, and I thought it sounded good. I didn't think about it, but actually I should have recorded Bob and Marcia on that version. First I recorded Willie Lindo's son, Kashief Lindo, and then Anthony Cruz because he was in the studio that day, on the same version. And finally Glen Washington, whom I brought in. You see the two albums he made for Studio One? I'm the one who chose the riddims. He's my artist, Glen. Nobody in the world can play him like Downbeat. I can play you 3 hours of Glen's dubs. And he did songs for me that he did for nobody else. Because he doesn't have exactly the same riddims as me.
Who gave you the hardest time in a soundclash?
(He thinks for a long time.)
I'll help you: Rodigan?
Yes, I'd indeed say Rodigan. The reason? Our history with Rodigan: he won a clash against me in New York, I won one against him in England three months later. He was lucky in New York because I was ill, very ill. And even though I was ill, I held on during that clash right up to the dub fi dub and he won by two points. Three months later in England, I took my title back! We did another clash at the Amazura with Jammy, Black Scorpio and Rodigan. Everybody said I had won that clash and yet the victory went to Jammy. But for me, if the crowd is the judge and decides that I lost, I accept defeat; if it says Jammy won, that's how it is. In that clash, Rodigan went out first. It was still a great clash. King Jammy, I beat him twice. Once in New York, a proper hiding, and once in Bermuda with Black Scorpio. It's hard for them to beat Downbeat, very hard! Now people are calling for a clash between Downbeat and Rodigan, but for one reason or another, Rodigan doesn't follow up. For example, they wanted us to face each other for the clash in Belgium… But it's cool, Rodigan has his history, his career, I have my history and my career. Yet every time Rodigan and I play, we make it an event. Roadblock! Two historic sounds! People say that Downbeat and Rodigan have the most dubs by late artists.
I read the biography of Vivian Blake (considered one of the leaders of the Shower Posse, editor's note) who lived in the Bronx. He tells of his nights out in the 70s, when he spent thousands of dollars in the clubs with his mates, and he talks about Downbeat. Were you aware at the time of the life those guys were living?
In any case, it never brought me any trouble. He just mentions my name…
Yes, and what's more, he speaks well of you, saying you were the biggest sound of the moment and that he loved coming to your parties, nothing too serious.
Yes, and it's true: every party he sponsored or organised, he booked me to play. He told me my sound was the best sound; he really held me in high regard. I was telling you that people in general liked me, the “rude boys” or the “bad boys” too!
That's what the sound business is for me: you play for everybody, without making any difference…
Exactly. And nobody could have claimed that Downbeat belonged to one territory or one type of people. We play everywhere, for everyone. Sometimes certain people judge it good or bad to be mentioned by a “badman”. I think it's good, because you say he talks about me as a great sound, and that sound still exists. You can also talk about guys like Bucky Marshall (a PNP gunman, murdered in New York) who often came to the dances at that time. One night, I was playing a song and I heard him yelling in the hall: “bloodclaat!”. It was the music and the riddim that set that off. It was in a club we called Jazz Two in the Bronx. It was one of the hottest and tensest dances I ever had the chance to run at the time. And I pulled out that riddim…
What was that famous riddim?
It's a Studio One riddim, Swing easy. And there's a story behind all that. When Mr Dodd gave me that riddim in 1972, he told me it was a “miss”. I was sitting across from him talking, just as we're doing today, and I said to him: “I want that riddim.” He answers: “Jackson, that riddim is a miss”, but I told him I wanted it anyway. He gave me that so-called miss of a riddim, and I've been playing it ever since, right up to today. I've got some really serious tunes on that riddim! And when that riddim plays, well, it's a good way to test the sound system! Because it was played by great musicians. If you go back in time, the Skatalites split up and formed two different bands. One part of the Skatalites renamed itself the Soul Brothers and the other part went to Duke Reid's to become Tommy McCook and the Supersonics. Then the Soul Brothers renamed themselves the Soul Vendors. That's when Alton Ellis recorded I'm just a guy. That song sold well and allowed the Soul Vendors to tour England with Alton Ellis. Maybe in 1972… After that, the Soul Vendors became Sound Dimension. The same guys! And they played that tune, Swing easy, and another called Rockfort rock. For me those are two of the greatest tunes in the history of Jamaica. Tunes inspired by jazz. And afterwards they put out an instrumental called Real rock, which has never stopped producing versions in the music business ever since. And it will never stop, believe me. And Real rock was so successful that they made a cut called Real dub!
It's true that pretty much everyone has heard the Real Rock…
So, I'll tell you something: Treasure Isle was magnificent, it was nice, the melodies and everything… But it's Studio One that I give the title to. “Coxsone” was a great man, he knew what he wanted. He recorded albums that nobody else would have recorded: Lennie Hibbert, the great Jackie Mitoo, who created almost all the riddims that made Studio One. In my view he's one of the greatest musicians ever to sit behind an organ. Honestly, I love Booker T, don't get me wrong! I like James Brown too, but for me Jackie is the greatest, because he plays reggae! He did things I've never seen anywhere else: he played the organ with his toes, have you ever seen that? He played with his back to the organ, all the while looking at you and talking to you! I saw a Jackie Mitoo and Sugar Minott show once. Sugar sang one of Jackie's best songs, In cold blood. For me, those are historic moments and I have to talk about them to the younger ones. People sometimes say: “He only plays old songs.” But for me, no song is too old!
You still follow the new artists, though?
Of course! You see Shaggy? I used to go and pick him up to go to the studio and he was still living in Brooklyn in one room, just one room!
He was in the Marines at the time.
Absolutely. And when he recorded Oh Carolina, I told him: “This is the start of your career.” Elephant Man, I recorded a song with him right at the very beginning at Black Scorpio studio with Danny English and I told him: “You work hard, you've got heart, you're going to make money, man!” He saw me again in New York when he'd already taken off and he remembered it: “Hey, you told me I was going to be rich!” I've got another story, with Bitty McLean. I didn't even know him when I heard that song Walk away from love, and I know two other people had sung it in reggae before him: Ken Boothe and Frankie Paul. But Bitty recorded his version on an original instrumental: they used a computer and rebuilt the riddim. It was a real Treasure Isle riddim, Alton Ellis's Rocksteady. Bitty took that riddim, they sped it up a little, took the horns out here, moved this part, that part, and he brought in Dean Fraser and a horn section to play over the top. Bitty plays on it too, he plays the organ, did you know? He's a great artist, a real musician. A friend in England played me that track over the phone and I said: “Wow, send me 50 copies of that song!” I gave that song to a radio presenter, a 62-year-old guy, and I sold 250 on the street, at 20 dollars. The radio guy was getting loads of calls and he said Downbeat had slipped him that record. Then I left for Germany and I turned everything upside down with that song, I went to Switzerland and it was the same. Bitty heard about it. People told him: “The first time we heard that song, it was being played by Downbeat.” Record dealers told him: “I heard Walk away from love and I bought 300 copies for the shop!” Bitty told me he had an old Downbeat tape and that he liked my sound. Since then, everybody has asked Bitty for dubplates. And he answered: “I'd rather give a dub to Downbeat first because I don't know him but he's playing my song and everybody's talking about it!” Afterwards, when he came to New York for the first time, the people who knew the whole story asked me to come and introduce Bitty McLean to the audience, on stage. It was really nice! And he said: “I feel like I've known this guy for 30 years. But I don't know him, I just respect what he's done.” And we've been friends ever since. I think that in the sound business, I've been one of the ones who has played him the most. I've been in clashes and the other soundmen would rib me: “You told Bitty to stop recording dubs!” I can't tell an artist not to make dubs, I don't want to take the bread out of their mouths. I never do that, never! I didn't ask him but I think there can't be more than 6 or 7 sounds who can play Bitty on dubplate. How long have we been talking now?
For a long time.
You see, I told you 15 minutes and you got a lot more! There was a time when you'd have interviewed me and we'd have stayed together five minutes, because I didn't have much to say, apart from talking a bit about music and saying “nuff respect”. Today, I see the direction reggae is heading in and I want to talk to people and tell them how I see the music, what I feel, tell them my respect for the younger ones who support us… I always have a lot of respect for people like you. I don't give interviews to just anybody but when my heart tells me to go, I go. Once I start talking, it goes on for hours; what I've told you is all true, but it all just came out like that, I can't even organise the whole story of my career. But my job is also to honour people like you who interview me, and all the young people who are involved in the reggae business.
I know that for a small island like Jamaica, reggae is a big thing, not only for me because I was born there, but for everyone, because only music will live for ever. Sometimes when you're sad or stressed – I think stress kills more people in the world than anything else! – you have to leave it aside. When I'm stressed, I go downstairs, I take some records, I play music and I'm fine. When I feel my blood pressure going up, I start playing my records and it comes back down. Music is a truly wonderful thing. We must love it and love all the people who are involved in music around us. In my musical life, I've never had any bias, I just love what I do, and I try to present it to people. I know the business and I enjoy a lot of respect; I respect the other sounds too because I know that one day, you have to hang up your boots, one day I'll say to myself: “That's it, I've had enough”. For now, I have this energy and I'm happy!
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